Thoughts of a BDSM submissive
by The Nutty One
Summary: Caroline reflects on her own submissive nature and how she came to be what she is today. Caroline/Katherine Femslash Contains sexual thoughts but not graphic. Enjoy!


Thoughts of a BDSM submissive

**Caroline reflects on her own submissive nature and how she came to be what she is today. **

The kiss of a riding crop on alabaster skin, leaving behind an artwork of rosy red bites as a possessive sign of ownership. The gentle strokes of the flogger as it glides over Goose Bumped flesh causing the anticipation to rise until the final stroke and the _crack_ of the leather strands upon naked, bare skin.

Submitting: it's like a drug. A drug that takes away all responsibilities, eases the constant buzzing feeling and tightness in her chest, and leaves her with nothing to think about and only orders to follow. Just act. It's bliss.

And that's what Caroline loves the most. The time when she can strip away all pretences and give into her most basic, deepest desires. To forget about the outside world for a few hours and give complete control over to someone else, someone she trusts more than she trusts herself. So she can work Caroline's body like a finely tuned instrument – pulling, plucking and pressing all the right strings to create a harmony that Caroline never knew she needed.

She. Katherine Peirce. Dark eyes. Dark hair. Dark personality. And even darker thoughts. The Mistress knows Caroline's body like a map; knows all the places to create pleasure and knows all the places which push Caroline's pain boundaries. After each session she leaves behind red kisses on Caroline's body, never bloody, she's ever submitted to knife play, and they both bathe – Dominant and submissive – in the glory and harmony that their lifestyle provides.

Caroline knew, from the age of fifteen, that she would never be 'vanilla'. It began when the psychological tight feeling in her chest started to grow, a buzzing nervous expanse of energy. The need to submit, to find others like her. When she couldn't – who could she tell at that age? – she resorted to her own methods to gain gratification. Her school belt, yanked from the hoops in her jeans, would snake across her thighs, leaving behind no marks and only the stinging sensation that would help to ease the need within her chest. After Caroline knew that the brief pain helped, she had started to experiment with different sensations. Ice cubes: they didn't offer pain, just varying degrees of temperatures and feelings as the ice melted, creating tiny streams of melt water that would run over her stomach or down her thighs. Feathers: they gave no pain, only a pleasant ticklish sensation that would set her nerves alight, make them hypersensitive to any touch. Candle wax: the fleeting sensation of burning heat on her body would make her whimper and then, as the wax cooled, it would soothe the temporary burns and the marks would fade within days.

Despite that, her submissive thoughts didn't revolve around pain and sex. The pain and release just helped to ease the buzzing, tenseness inside her chest. No, her thoughts centred on the need to feel needed. That, as a submissive, she would be chosen by her Dominant…over all others she would be chosen. The protective nature of Dominants and the way they would accept all responsibilities without question. The way they would control her, and allow the thoughts rushing through her mind to ease and finally subside.

The power they emanated.

The control they exercised on a regular basis.

Caroline supposed that was the reason she was attracted to those older than herself. They had more experience. A wisdom that she could only hope to gain for herself. It certainly explained why she had been attracted to her history teacher. He'd had a career in the army then left and became a guard for a prison only to study a degree in history and sit in front of her, teaching her all about the Tudors while she would sit there, imagining him giving her orders, a crop in his hand, his marks on her body…

And then she had seen Katherine. One look at the other woman, older than her by five years, and Caroline had known she'd found her Mistress. They'd met at the race course and Katherine had demanded a race. "Loser submits" was all she had said before mounting the motorbike, revving its engine and gesturing for Caroline to do the same. Of course Caroline had lost. How could she not? Tattoos disappeared under the leather that Katherine wore, exciting Caroline's interest and imagination… The way she had handled the bike, leather clad fingers encircling the handlebars lightly, her thighs barely touching the sides of the bike; the control of the machine resting in the light movements of her fingers...

When Caroline had lost that race, Katherine had spoken about Caroline's hard and soft limits, building up a profile of what she enjoyed, only to change it as she played Caroline's body to a new song that Caroline didn't know she needed to hear. Katherine had made her pick a safe word, a word which would give her the power needed to stop all activities should they get too much.

Caroline had picked potassium. A group one metal known for its rapid reaction with water. It symbolised the fast release of energy inside her chest created by the orders that were given and the crop kissing her skin. The bright, brilliant sparks that would hiss represented her nerves going alight as each individual touch would bring her pleasure or pain or sometimes both. And then, finally, when the metal had reacted with the water, forming potassium hydroxide, it would show Caroline's final pretences falling away, disappearing as she became something else and gave into her most basic desires.

But it was all unnecessary.

Because she'd never needed her safe word once.

**Hey up! Hope you liked this, it's a bit different from what I usually write. But it's been bugging me for a while, you know, to get my own thoughts down on paper? And Caroline seemed the right person to show them through, so I hope you don't mind reading my rambling thoughts. Anyhow, love to know your thoughts if you review, and if not, I do hope you enjoyed hearing mine. **

**Thanks for reading, The Nutty One xxx**


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